


Graduation

by besanii



Series: tennis!verse [3]
Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Fluff, Graduation, Japanese Culture, Love Confessions, M/M, Pining, Piningjolras, Prince of Tennis AU, this is cheesy too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-12
Updated: 2014-02-12
Packaged: 2018-01-12 01:39:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1180382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/besanii/pseuds/besanii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Graduation arrives with the cherry blossoms in late April.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Graduation

**Author's Note:**

  * For [purple_embroidery](https://archiveofourown.org/users/purple_embroidery/gifts).



> Based on [this prompt](http://besanii.tumblr.com/post/75040730248/e-r-japanese-high-school-au) I received on Tumblr for a Japanese high school AU. It fit well with the rest of the Tramlines stories, so I set it in the same verse. You technically don't have to read the others to read this, but it would probably help if you did.

 

Graduation arrives with the cherry blossoms in late April.  With college entrance exams behind them, the third years have fulfilled all obligations to the school, except to attend the graduation ceremony and the closing address at the end of the school year.

As the departing student body president, Enjolras gives his final speech and hands over the metaphorical reins to his successor.  He thanks the school, the teachers, his peers and imparts advice to the younger years, before he joins the ranks of the graduating class to accept their diplomas.

After the formalities, they visit their favourite haunts for the last time as a group.  Courfeyrac points out the bench Marius had tripped over on the day they’d first met, which had become their favourite bench to have lunch at when the weather permitted.  Combeferre gives the books in the English section of the library a final farewell, running fingers over the spines as if greeting an old friend.

Enjolras spends the most time in the student council office.  He stands where his seat had been the whole year, at the front of the room, and surveys the empty desks gathered in a circle, facing inward, before him, feeling a surge of pride at what they had achieved over the last year.

Combeferre finds him there, staring out of the window where it overlooks the tennis courts.  The official club handover was before exams and now Marius leads the younger students in basic drills.

"Miss it already?" Combeferre asks, coming to stand beside him.

"Yeah."  Enjolras flexes his hand.  "It feels weird watching from afar when we’ve been in the thick of things for so long." 

Combeferre hums in agreement.  His school blazer is unbuttoned and his shirt untucked, very casual compared to his usual pristine appearance, and it’s then Enjolras notices the missing button.

"Courfeyrac," Combeferre says, by means of an answer to Enjolras’ questioning gaze.  "In the library.  I know it’s very middle school of us, but tradition’s tradition and it’s nice."

He shows Enjolras the button he has clenched in his fist, which Enjolras assumes was once on Courfeyrac’s blazer.  The second button, closest to the heart.  He unconsciously begins to fiddle with his own, which amuses Combeferre.  He chuckles.

"He’s on the roof, just so you know."

Enjolras flushes.  ”I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

"Come on, Enjolras, we’ve been friends for  _years_.  You’re the closest thing I have to a brother.  I know what you’re thinking.  Seriously, go to him.”

Enjolras hesitates, but his feet are already shifting, turning towards the door.  Combeferre smiles encouragingly.

"Go on," he says.  Then his expression turns serious.  "It’s your last chance, maybe for a long time.  He’s moving away for college."

“ _What_?”  His heart plummets and he’s about to demand an explanation when Combeferre starts herding him out the door.  ”Wait, Combeferre–!”

“ _Go to him_ ,” he repeats firmly.  ”Roof.  Go.   _Now_.”

Enjolras runs.

The clubrooms are on the fourth floor of the building, after which is the roof and Enjolras has never been more thankful as he hurtles up the staircase two steps at a time.  There’s the faintest tinge of panic starting to gather at the edges of his mind as Combeferre’s words repeat in his head:  _going away – college – last chance to do it_.

He slams open the door.

He’s seen Grantaire in various states on this very rooftop: sleeping, studying, eating or even practising tennis drills.  The images are burned into his brain, along with memories of all the shared lunches, study sessions, events planning and arguments.  He’d shared them all with Grantaire on this very rooftop and it was only fitting that it should be here where they –

Where they what?

He and Grantaire weren’t anything.  That had been his choice, once upon a time, and he’d done nothing since to change it.  Grantaire owes him  _nothing_ , he thinks bitterly, even as the boy himself turns at the sound of the door slamming and stares at him in surprise.  His heart clenches.  He feels sick.

"Enjolras?"  Grantaire pushes away from the chain-linked fence and approaches him, concern written all over his features.  "Are you okay? What happened?"

“ _You_ ,” he says, pointing accusingly at Grantaire.  ”You’re  _leaving_  and you didn’t  _tell me_?  Where are you going?”

Grantaire blanches.

"I – I didn’t – I didn’t  _mean_  to keep it from you!” he says.  ”It just never came up!”

Enjolras charges forward until he has Grantaire backed up against the fence again, his finger poking at his chest.

"College acceptances were released  _last week_ ,” he says.  ”You’ve known for a  _week_  and you didn’t –  _you told Combeferre_!”  He curls his fingers into Grantaire’s jacket.  ”Where are you going?”

"Ritsudai."  Enjolras closes his eyes and leans forward so his forehead is resting on Grantaire’s shoulder.   _Kyoto_.  On the other side of the country.  ”I got into the Fine Arts department.  Heard you got into Poli-Sci at Todai.  Congrats.”

Enjolras shakes his head.

"I’m so proud of you," he says softly.  Grantaire wraps his arms around him and hums.  "I’m really, really proud of you, Grantaire."

They stay like this for a long moment, just breathing each other in.  He had never really noticed Grantaire’s scent beneath the usual stench of alcohol or day-old clothes.  It was obvious Grantaire had done his best to clean up for graduation, as the smell of peppermint shampoo surrounds him.  He turns his face and unconsciously nuzzles into the scent.  Grantaire stiffens.

"Enjolras?"

"I wish I’d done this sooner," he says.  "I wish I hadn’t been so horrible to you – we could’ve had  _so much time_  together.  And now you’re leaving and I–”

– _I’m going to miss you_ , is what he doesn’t say, but Grantaire knows.  Grantaire always knows.

"It’s alright."  Grantaire tugs him forward.  His arms come around Enjolras’ shoulders and pulls their bodies together.  "It’s only Kyoto.  That’s just an overnight bus ride away.  I’ll come visit when I’m free and you can do the same.  And we have phones.  And Skype.  Just because I’m moving doesn’t mean we’re not still friends."

"I don’t want to be  _just friends_ ,” he says.  ”I–I know this is really stupid and it’s just a silly custom, but–”

Enjolras pulls back, his cheeks flushed pink, and busies himself with removing the button on his blazer.  He presses it into Grantaire’s hand, folding his fingers over it and bending down to press his lips on the closed fist.  He keeps a tight hold on Grantaire’s hand and doesn’t look up.  Grantaire stares at him, wide-eyed.

"Are you sure?" he whispers.  Enjolras nods quickly, but refuses to meet his eyes.  "Enjolras, I–"

"Please take it," Enjolras says.  "You don’t have to return the gesture, I just wanted you to have this.  So you know."

His face is burning and there are tears stinging in his eyes from embarrassment.  He drops Grantaire’s hand like it’s a brand and starts backing away.

"NO!" Grantaire says, panicked.  Enjolras looks up at him in surprise.  He flushes and produces something from his pocket.  "I – uh, actually … wanted to do this earlier, but you were busy with the ceremony and then you gave me  _yours_ , which I totally wasn’t expecting and – uh, here.”

He holds out his open hand, on which sits a single button.  Enjolras blinks, glances up at Grantaire’s jacket to see an empty space where his second button had been, and a fluttery warm feeling starts rapidly spreading through his body.  He feels giddy and light and there’s stupidly happy grin splitting his face, but he doesn’t care.

He takes the button from Grantaire and threads their fingers together.

"Thank you."  He brings Grantaire’s hand to his lips once more.  "I’ll treasure it always."

Grantaire’s smile trembles at the edges, but he returns the favour.  Enjolras shivers when warm lips brush over his fingers.

"As I will yours."

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on [tumblr!]()


End file.
